Magpie Tales 108: Dreams And Nightmares

Image: Uzengia Aleksander Nedic

Shared by Tess Kincaid

infatuation 

coltish wind

and horizontal 

rain, tonight 

like the prancing

dance we 

gave, 

foot on toe,

the leader 

and led, 

two by two

Delphic dreams

were dead.

Poem ©2012 R. Burnett Baker 

A Link

the mentor 




beneath your 
blood red sea,
under cobalt heaven, 


there is 
that horizon 
of creative strife 


spawned from past, 
and past life 
where we 
gather a singular
collective bond
and breath; 


there is a line, 
indistinct but there, 
and there, and 
over there: 


I knead the 
merging and 
melding impetus, 
your legacy, 
my heritage, 


and then watch 
and ferry those
efforts of 
life-color 
and word.

Ina Jean Garner, Austin, Texas

Photo by R. Baker 2012

Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker

The Fear Of God(s)

Ballpoint pen/color pencil doodle 

by R. Baker, 1999

lords of the universe 

omnipresence must be 

lonely. 

spewing stars

across darkness, 

horizons of city lights

along highways:  what 

nebula guides wise men

to an image feared 

across heaven? 

guilt is a face 

in the night sky

that answers, 

or not, 

prayers from 

the sparkling 

mass of minutiae.

Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker 

Inspiration From A Conversation

as we question
(response to L)




still, your 
formative years
are your cocoon
and open mind,
that contradiction
not lost on either
of us.


yes, dead poets
of insanity's genius
glamour our teary
eyes, but I have my 
doubts about insanity
and genius:  
               that the two are 
               creator/creation and
               interchangeable is 
               nothing more than 
               an excuse for abdicating
               responsibility. 


I say embrace your
past lives that scream
from your pen and 
encase your heart with
interpretations of 
others. 


do not fear your 
sadnesses, but do not
confuse them with 
the sadnesses of those
who've passed before
you: 


theirs, yours, mine
will reveal themselves
neatly, our words a 
panacea for this 
silent written 
world.  


Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker

Magpie Tales 107: Oceania Lovers

Image by Sarolta Ban

Shared by Tess Kincaid

Airstrip One 

Winston Smith is every person, 

every corner, street, mall, lot, 

motel hallway; 

every elevator shaft, subway,

train, plane, bus, 

taxicab; 

each iWad is watching, from 

phones, cameras, monitors, 

smart, smart, smart; 

let me duck into the room, 

kill the lights quickly

before she fingers the brim

of my fedora-cloaked 

bald life. 

Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker 

Life In Snapshots 3: The Poetry Of Cousins

The Cousin Bond

Cousins often are the first meaningful bonds of friendship we encounter in our lives.  I have six cousins, all of whom are still living.  We were all close as children.  As we grew older, that closeness became more memory as we lived our lives and went in different directions.   I've been trying, (not too well, I must admit) to reconnect with those cousins, and strengthen those bonds.  We're somewhat scattered across the country, or within the state of Texas, so it isn't easy to keep in close touch with relatives. 

My cousin Sharon and I had an especially close bond from our earliest childhoods, and that has remained strong to this day.  She's also my dentist!  (There may be a dental story come from that later.)  Here are a few old photos of us through the years.  As for the second photo, Don Johnson had nothing over me, Miami Vice notwithstanding! 

Sharon Garner, Rick Baker, 1961 

Photo By Jean Garner

Rick Baker, Sharon Garner, 1988

Photo by Betty Baker

Sharon Garner, daughter Gigi, Rick Baker, Betty Baker 2011

Photo by Ed Browne

cousins 

we didn't know of connections 

in those days.  we never questioned,

reasoned, or analyzed moments:  

innocence played its role. 

we were connected in ways we did not

and do not think about, let alone understand. 

but that is of no consequence.  understanding 

is not required.  we are family and more than 

just blood in passing. 

we are the infinite quality of 

brother, sister, father, mother, aunt, uncle, cousin. 

we are not compromised by 

time, circumstance, status, or age: 

we are children laughing, 

then, and forever. 

Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker

Life In Snapshots 2, Great Aunt Clara: Am I Your Twin??

Over the past couple of decades, my Aunt Jeanie has been writing stories about her life and the lives and episodes in other family members' lives.  These have been typed, copied by her at Kinkos, and bound by her hand, to be sent to all of us every Christmas.  What a treasure!  

One year I received my copy and several Kinko copies of old family photos.  One of those photos is of my grandmother, Ina, standing with her sister, Clara, in 1922.  The moment I saw the photo I was struck instantly by something about the image of Aunt Clara. 

Perhaps it is my imagination, but I don't think so:  I could almost have been her twin brother!  I immediately thought of a photo of me in Arabia in the 1970's and dug around for it until I found it.  I did the Kinkos thing, made a copy, cut it up and taped it next to the image of Aunt Clara. 

That's the bottom photo. 

Click to embiggen.

Take away the facial hair, and Aunt Clara's hat, and I think I've made my case!  Anyway,  I think it is just cool!  I want to know more about Aunt Clara.  My next conversation with Aunt Jeanie will include that story!   See what you think: 

Click to embiggen.

We tend to not think much about our ancestors and heritage until it's nearly too late to learn the stories.  There is much to catch up on....